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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28406709">Masquerade</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catsafari/pseuds/Catsafari'>Catsafari</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Neko no Ongaeshi | The Cat Returns</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Phantom of the Opera AU, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:54:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,737</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28406709</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catsafari/pseuds/Catsafari</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Sanctuary brings to Baron's attention an ex-human stuck in the Cat Kingdom, too late to return home and working at the Royal Theatre, he does what he can to help. Step One: Teach her to sing. // Secret Santa 2020 for Cat with a Keyboard // Phantom of the Opera AU</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Baron Humbert von Gikkingen/Yoshioka Haru</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Overture</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A/N: Merry (belated) Christmas, Cat! This is the first chapter of your Secret Santa, based on your request for a Phantom of the Opera AU. I was stumped at first, since YC has already done such a wonderful AU, but eventually found an angle that hopefully deviates far enough from YC's story to be fresh, but close enough to POTO to hit the mark :D This was meant to be a oneshot, but I hit the 5K mark with still a fair distance to go and decided I'd have to split it up. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Sanctuary tended to bring clients to the Bureau in a variety of creative ways.</p><p>For the majority of those who did not come seeking the Bureau but who needed its help nonetheless, their arrival often came about in a door suddenly forgetting its usual exit and switching to that of the Bureau – a confusing situation to be sure, but hardly the flashiest the Sanctuary had to offer.</p><p>Other clients arrived with more of a bang – and, if they were lucky, that it was only figuratively-speaking. Paintings, wardrobes and, in one particularly memorable case, a tornado had all served as openings through into the little side world that was the Sanctuary over the years, and so Baron wasn't wholly surprised when one of his mirrors decided to show not the interior of the Bureau, but that of a dark brown cat sobbing in a brightly-lit room.</p><p>He lowered his tea.</p><p>So it was going to be one of <em>those</em> days.</p><p>He tapped at the glass between them, and the cat snapped her head up.</p><p>No, not a cat, not… not quite. From a distance perhaps she could be passed off as a true feline, but at this proximity it was clear her face still had the edge of something… <em>other</em>. Beneath her brow, the tabby-brown fur gave way to a strange pale tan colour that encompassed the entirety of her face – a face marred by a muzzle that was too short, eyes too soft, and cheekbones too angular. She rubbed a paw – comfortingly feline – at her red-rimmed eyes and squinted at Baron. "Hello?" As she spoke, Baron caught a glimpse of sharp, canine teeth. "Is… is anyone there?"</p><p>Baron began to speak – preparing his usual spiel – when the cat scoffed and passed a paw over her eyes again. "And now I'm imagining things," she muttered. "Great. <em>Great</em>. As if today just couldn't get any better. Let's just go and toss away what remains of my marbles, sounds like a <em>fantastic</em> idea…" The laugh that built up in her throat threatened to spill over into another sob, and she muffled the sound beneath her paws.</p><p>Baron had seen enough.</p><p>He tapped again at the mirror – now a window – and those strange semi-feline eyes flickered up again. They glazed over and past him, and he wondered if the Sanctuary had granted only a one-way window. (In the days to come, he would realise it was nothing so grand. It was simply the matter that her side of the mirror was bright, while the Bureau was still shrouded in mid-morning gloom and so his side was not visible through the glass. Physics, not magic, rendered his form invisible.)</p><p>"What is the problem, miss?"</p><p>The woman's – cat's? – form stilled and she visibly fought to regain control of her distressed breathing. "Who's there? What do you want?"</p><p>Baron's traditional introduction lingered on his lips, and then passed him by. Without his form visible to her, there was none of the usual curiosity regarding Creations and, anyway, he suspected she cared little for such trivialities right now. "My name is Baron," he said instead, "and I want to help."</p><p>A bubble of tired laughter fizzed through her. "You want to help, huh? Sorry, but you're about an hour too late for that. I appreciate the sentiment though."</p><p>"Too late?" he echoed. "What do you mean?"</p><p>"I mean I've missed the sunrise. I'm stuck. I'm…" and she gestured weakly to her form, "<em>this</em>."</p><p>"You were not always so?"</p><p>"I was human until yesterday." She sniffled but the worst of the sobs had subsided as she looked anew at the mirror. "You really don't know what's going on, do you?"</p><p>"Tell me, and I will see if I can help."</p><p>"You can't. This is permanent." She hesitated, and then the edge of something – loneliness, maybe? – tugged at the edge of her eyes. "I'm in the Cat Kingdom. There's a… I… It…" She stammered for a few more seconds before shaking her head sharply and cutting herself off. "It's complicated, but apparently if a human stays beyond the next sunrise, they get stuck as a cat. For good."</p><p>Baron recalled what he could of the Cat Kingdom. It was a place that, despite his own appearance, he had had little need to visit over his life. He had a vague memory that it ran on the same kind of internal logic as other fae worlds – shifting those misfortunate enough to fall through to fit its own rules – but little else to go on. "Where are you now? Are you safe?"</p><p>"I… I think so?" She dabbed at her eyes again, but now they were almost completely dry. "There's this cat that I helped some years back, and she's taken me in. She's part of the chorus in the theatre – she's off rehearsing now, so it's just me in the dressing room – and she's offered to let me stay with her until I find my feet." She paused and then added with a wry smile, "Paws, I mean."</p><p>Baron nodded before he could remember she couldn't see him. "Is there truly no way to return you back to being human?"</p><p>"No, but I… I appreciate the thought." Her shoulders sagged. "I'll be okay. I always am."</p><p>Her words sounded tired, but streaked with a stubbornness of a rhetoric cemented over the years. "Well, you needn't be alone," Baron said. "I'm here to help now, Miss…?"</p><p>"Haru," she said. "Just Haru."</p><p>x</p><p>"Oh, you're starting early," Toto said as he ducked through the Bureau's balcony doors. "Research already?"</p><p>Baron didn't look up from the sea of books surrounding him. "What do you know about the Cat Kingdom, Toto?"</p><p>"Not much, save that it's full of magic and cats. You'd be better off asking the overgrown furball. What makes you ask?"</p><p>"The Sanctuary introduced me to a young woman who's stuck in the Cat Kingdom and I was hoping for a way to revert her back to her human form."</p><p>Toto winced. "Good luck with that. If the Cat Kingdom is like other fae worlds then it won't give up its victims easily."</p><p>"Yes, that's what other sources seem to say too." Baron skimmed over another page that agreed with every other book so far in that the transformation was permanent after the first sunrise. He snapped it shut and leant back in his desk chair. "I just find it strange that the Sanctuary would bring her to my attention if it were truly too late to help her."</p><p>"Maybe we wouldn't have been able to help her at the time," Toto suggested. "We were out on a case until very late last night. It's possible we wouldn't have got to her even if we set off the moment we were able."</p><p>"Yes, but what are we meant to do about it <em>now</em>?"</p><p>Toto considered. "Sometimes, all we can offer is a listening ear and sometimes that can be enough."</p><p>"Hm," Baron said, and returned to his books.</p><p>x</p><p>It was late the next evening when his mirror shifted back to the dressing room of the Cat Kingdom theatre once again. Her form was… different to how he remembered it. The eyes that had once betrayed a human origin now gleamed golden when the light caught them, and tabby stripes tickled the edge of her jawline. Baron frowned and filed away the discrepancies for later inspection.</p><p>"Miss Haru?"</p><p>She jumped – the fur along her neck bristled – but relaxed when she located the mirror. "Oh, it's… you again. I'd almost thought I'd imagined that whole conversation." There was a jittery energy to her motions, one that he didn't think was born of fear but of something… else. "At least, it is Baron, isn't it?"</p><p>"It is."</p><p>He hated the way her eyes glimmered with sudden hope. "Did… Did you find a way to get me back?"</p><p>"I'm sorry, Miss Haru–"</p><p>"It's fine." Her shoulders sagged. "I probably shouldn't trust disembodied mirror voices for a solution anyway – no offence."</p><p>"None taken." His gaze swept over the woman, this time taking note of the paws that tapped a fast beat against the table and the semblance of some care taken with her appearance. "Are you going somewhere?"</p><p>"Just to rehearsals," Haru said. "Yuki – that's the cat who's taken me in – has managed to talk the theatre into letting me join as part of the chorus, and it's not as if I have any better idea of where to go." The paws upped their frantic beat, this time accompanied with the hollow tap of claws. "I've never been on stage before, save for school concerts – and I usually managed to snag a place at the back for those."</p><p>"I'm sure you'll do fantastically."</p><p>She laughed weakly. "Bold words for someone who has never heard me sing."</p><p>"I cannot believe you are as bad as all that."</p><p>"I'm not… bad, <em>per se,"</em> Haru said, "I just… wouldn't say I'm all that good either. Machida used to always say I sounded like–" She abruptly halted, and shook her head. "Never mind. Let's just say that chorus is the best place for me."</p><p>Baron smiled, even as the words didn't quite sit right with him. "Would you sing for me, Miss Haru?"</p><p>She ducked her head, and the blush somehow showed through her tan fur. "I… I'd really rather not. It'd be… I'd be embarrassed." A shout came from beyond the dressing room, and a white cat with a pink bow popped her head round the door.</p><p>"Haru? Haru, there you are – we're just about to start on the songs for Act 1. Are you coming?"</p><p>Haru scrabbled to her feet, all elbows and tail. "Yes. Yes, I'm coming, Yuki. I'll just…" She glanced to the mirror and threw a hesitant smile Baron's way. "I'm coming."</p><p>x</p><p>"I've found her."</p><p>Baron paused in his tea-making and tried to remember what his last conversation had entailed as Muta arrived in a bang of doors. "Found who, Muta? And don't slam the doors – you'll ruin the wallpaper."</p><p>"Haru. I've found her."</p><p>"We all know where she is, butterball," Toto said. "She's in the Cat Kingdom."</p><p>Muta made a face at Toto and monopolised the sofa, collapsing down on it in such a way as to make the springs groan. "I mean I know who she was before she got stuck in the Cat Kingdom. But, if you don't want to listen, then I guess I'll just keep it to myself–"</p><p>"What have you found?" Baron interrupted before Muta could fully commit to the grudge.</p><p>"This." And Muta dropped a newspaper down onto the coffee table.</p><p>Baron collected up the evidence, swiping at Muta's paws before he could prop them onto the table, and opened up the paper. It was a human one, backdated about a week, and the front picture was that of a young woman with dark brown hair tied back into a ponytail. For a moment, he couldn't see the resemblance, but then the eyes jumped out at him – they were Haru's. Or, at least, Haru's until she had shifted a little further into feline form.</p><p>The headline read: <em>Scorned Bride Vanishes</em>.</p><p>"<em>Miss Haru Yoshioka, a local librarian assistant, disappeared after being scorned at the altar by her fiancé, Machida Itsuki</em>," Baron read. "<em>Sources say the groom revealed an ongoing relationship with another woman an hour before the wedding was due to take place, resulting in Miss Yoshioka fleeing the scene.</em>" Baron paused. "<em>She has not been seen since.</em>"</p><p>"How does a scorned bride end up in the Cat Kingdom?" Toto asked.</p><p>"I don't know," Baron said. "But at least we know a little more about her situation."</p><p>"Yeah, like she has a horrible taste in men."</p><p>"<em>Muta</em>. Not helpful."</p><p>Muta shrugged. "Still true."</p><p>Baron scowled, but focused on folding up the newspaper and setting it into the ongoing casefile that was Haru's. Machida… the name sounded familiar. Had Haru mentioned him? Well, whoever he was, he had evidently done more than enough damage.</p><p>x</p><p>Creations didn't sleep, exactly, but they did rest. After long cases, where he had maintained his animated form for too long and nearly burnt through his magic, he would have to revert to his wooden state for a period to recover. And he would dream.</p><p>It was the wee, dark hours of the morning when he awoke from one such slumber (Toto had warned him against pushing himself, but he had ignored it and even now his form ached) when he realised the song that had haunted his dreams continued even into the waking world. He blinked and his eyes lost their gemlike sheen. "Toto?" he called, but – no. The voice was a soprano, high and clear. The notes shifted. Mezzo-soprano, he amended. Not Toto. <em>Definitely</em> not Muta.</p><p>"<em>At eleven forty-two with the signal overdue…</em>"</p><p>Baron rounded through the Bureau, coming at last to a halt to the mirror. It was dim, reflecting only himself but as he brushed a glove at it, the surface rippled.</p><p>"…<em>and the passengers all frantic to a man…</em>"</p><p>The mirror cleared and revealed the blinding bright light of the evermore Cat Kingdom sun. Sat on the other side of the mirror-window, with legs crossed and tail curled over her knees, was Haru. She was dressed in cheap show furs – useful for felines with short or no fur, even more so for ex-humans, it seemed – that were dyed a garish yellow.</p><p>"…<em>that's when I'd appear and I'd saunter to the...</em>" She gave a sudden squeak as she missed the note, and trailed abruptly off into embarrassed humming instead. She seemed to curl even more into herself, even the thickening tabby fur hid the blush.</p><p>'<em>She's alone and she still feels judged?</em>' Baron wondered. He stepped up to the mirror and, before he had time to properly think things through – to announce himself or to reassure – he picked up the lyrics where the tune lingered. "<em>Then he gave one flash of his glass-green eyes</em>," he began softly, "<em>and the signal went 'all-clear'. They'd be off at last…</em>" He lingered.</p><p>"…<em>for the northern part…</em>" Haru finished.</p><p>"…<em>of the Northern Hemisphere</em>," they chorused together.</p><p>Haru uncurled slightly from her defensive position. "Baron? Is that… Is that you?"</p><p>"Guilty as charged."</p><p>She gave a hiccupping laugh and was notably avoiding eye contact with the mirror. "How long have you been listening?"</p><p>"Only for the last twenty seconds or so. I apologise; I should have announced myself immediately, but I didn't wish to startle you mid-song."</p><p>"You shouldn't have worried. You weren't interrupting anything."</p><p>"Only your singing." When Haru didn't look any the better for it, he added a teasing not to his words and said, "Miss Haru, I do believe you lied to me. You told me you were not a good singer."</p><p>"I'm… I'm not. Not like the leads, anyway. I can't sight-read, or hit the notes they can or for as long, and I can't get the hang of staccato and–"</p><p>"And neither can any cat right from the start. You're without training, not talent." An idea occurred to him, simple and far plainer than his usual plans, but somehow it felt <em>right</em>. "But that could be amended."</p><p>"How?"</p><p>"I won't pretend to be an expert, but I do have some experience in music. I could tutor you."</p><p>"Oh, I couldn't possibly ask–"</p><p>"You don't need to. I'm offering."</p><p>Haru faltered. "If… If it's really no bother–"</p><p>"Not at all, Haru. After all, helping is what the Bureau does." '<em>I may not have found you in time to free you from your feline fate, but I can at least do this much.</em>'</p><p>She smiled. "Then yes… please."</p><p>Baron curbed the instinctive desire to sweep his top hat from his head in a bow, only just remembering in time that she couldn't see him. "It shall be my pleasure. Oh, and one last question before I go. Are you performing the <em>Cats</em> musical?"</p><p>Haru snorted. "Apparently the cats here love it that humans have created a musical all about them. I'm not complaining – it means I don't have to learn the entire thing from scratch."</p><p>"I shall have to dig out my copy of <em>Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats</em> then."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Think Of Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Yes, this is still ongoing! (I've made the mistake I vowed never to do again, which is to have three stories updating concurrently, but in my excuse *gestures to the whole of 2020*. I've also acquired a 11-week-old puppy who, while adorable, will eat all my socks the moment I take my eyes off him, so writing is a sporadic affair atm.) Anyway, please enjoy and chapter 3 will be appearing... sometime in the future.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Prince Lune had never really been a fan of the theatre.</p>
<p>It wasn't due to a lack of trying. He understood the theory, the history, the importance of arts and the culture but it was simply a matter of… well, he'd seen theatre in the Human World, and the Cat Kingdom didn't really hold much of a candle up to it. This also wasn't due to lack of trying. However the sad truth was that cats were not the most patient of creatures, and attempting to round up a dozen felines to practice to perfection the same play over the course of what, in the human would, would equate to weeks was like… well, herding cats.</p>
<p>Also, since cats were somewhat vain animals, the human musical, <em>Cats</em>, made a fairly frequent appearance and despite the regular showing, the theatre always found a way to insert some drama into the performance. Today, it was courtesy of the usual prima donna being replaced by her understudy, due to a misjudgement of the stage's edge, a trip into the orchestra pit, and a rather literal broken leg.</p>
<p>"I heard the understudy is new to the company," Lune heard a duchess across from him whisper to her friend, words hidden behind a silk fan.</p>
<p>"That's nothing," her friend replied in the same cheerfully scandalised tone. "I heard she's new to the <em>Kingdom</em>."</p>
<p>"Do you mean she's a stray?"</p>
<p>"I mean she's a <em>human</em>."</p>
<p>"Outrageous," the duchess gasped, fluttering the fan to hide the grin. "A human replacing the prima donna in a showing of <em>Cats</em>? Whatever will they think of next?"</p>
<p>Lune let the idle gossip pass him by and decided against reminding either of the ladies that <em>Cats</em> didn't quite have principle roles the same way another play might do, for he didn't think it would make much difference. Instead, he read through the paper programme for the third time since he'd taken his seat and wondered just what had led a human to a life in the Royal Theatre.</p>
<p>His father didn't carry quite the same reservations about his inattention to theatre, yawning widely behind a paw that was only half attempting to hide the boredom. Lune leant across and, from behind the cover of the programme, murmured, "At least <em>try</em> to look interested, Father."</p>
<p>"I <em>am</em> trying," the King grumbled. "I'll be interested when something finally happens."</p>
<p>"It'll be starting in a few minutes."</p>
<p>"Fine. Wake me up when the interval comes."</p>
<p>Lune kept his expression pleasantly neutral above the programme and, very aware he was partaking in the same gossip as half the nobility, said, "I've heard that the understudy replacing the prima donna is an ex-human."</p>
<p>A flicker of interest interrupted the intense boredom monopolising his father's face. "Oh? Who?"</p>
<p>Lune dropped his attention to the cast list, before realising it had been written up before the last-minute change. "I don't know; they didn't have time to change the programme..." His eyes trailed further down the page, considering that maybe the understudy normally assisted in the chorus line, when he faltered over a name he had almost forgotten he still knew.</p>
<p>"Lune? You found her?"</p>
<p>"No, I… No." He snapped the programme shut. There had to be a hundred cats to go by the name of Yuki; variations of Snowball and Neve and Bianca dominated the name-scape among white-furred felines, so Yuki was no different. Probably. He set the paper to one side just as the overture started up, and he immediately felt foolish at such a response. He patted his father's arm, grounding himself in the familiar '<em>please behave</em>' reminder and settling himself in for the next three hours.</p>
<p>Most performances in the Royal Theatre didn't run for nearly as long as <em>Cats</em> did – then again, most other performances were created in the Cat Kingdom and getting a cat to sit down and write a show took nearly as much effort as herding the cast and crew to rehearse the darn thing. The only reason that <em>Cats</em> had not been abridged, as so many other shows that were gratuitously 'borrowed' from the Human World had been, was, again, due to vanity. Even so, Lune found his patience running thin from the very first song – although perhaps not for the reason that most other audience members did.</p>
<p>For when the role of Victoria came, there stepped forward a cat who – even though time and space had separated them – Lune felt a rush of familiarity rise for. She had been younger the last time they had met – then again, they both had. Young and foolish and so sure that things such as rank and class didn't mean anything in the grand scheme of life. She stood taller now, her movements sure and deliberate as she commanded all attention with Victoria's ballet solo that, until now, Lune had always ranked as subpar to the ones found in the Human World.</p>
<p>And then, naturally, he had to wait through nearly three hours of other cats taking the limelight when all he wanted to do was barge down to backstage and see if the once-palace maid remembered him as clearly as he remembered her. He didn't even truly notice the ex-human who took to centre stage with a performance of <em>Memory</em>, save for the murmurs it sent through the audience. (<em>"A human in Grizabella's role? Who knew that humans could possess such a voice?"</em>)</p>
<p>Fortunately, by the time the curtain call came (an agonising three hours later) he had regained enough of his senses to realise that the crown prince rushing away to lament after a chorus cat – even one who took on the role of Victoria – would tend as much to the proverbial grapevine as a human understudy for the prima donna.</p>
<p>However, the crown prince paying a visit to the human understudy for the prima donna might be seen as more of a royal duty…</p>
<p>"Father," he announced as the music began to give way to the bustle of the audience dispersing, "I was thinking it might be prudent to meet this understudy. It is rare a human finds their way to the Cat Kingdom, or that they land on their feet so well."</p>
<p>"You want to stay here <em>longer</em>?" his father asked.</p>
<p>"You can return to the palace," Lune said, and he didn't miss his father's relief. He only hoped that his own at his father's indifference did not show quite as clearly. "I simply think it would be wise for a measure of royal interest to be seen to be paid, considering how she has risen to the rank of prima donna in such a short period. I can manage quite well on my own."</p>
<p>His father made a noise in the back of his throat that inclined Lune to think that maybe the older cat had slept through the majority of the play. "Fine. Just don't go getting lost."</p>
<p>"I won't."</p>
<p>"I heard there's an opera ghost about!" his father called, but Lune was already halfway out of the royal box and was making haste for the exit.</p>
<p>Lune didn't head straight backstage. For starters, he was well aware it would still be chaos following the curtain call, but secondly he needed to make a quick detour by way of a flower stall. He still had to be quick about it, for while the majority of theatre cats tended to live in the building – it had enough space for accommodation – not all did, and the last thing he wanted was to discover that Yuki had left before he'd had a chance to reintroduce himself.</p>
<p>The theatre was emptier on his return, devoid of the crowds who had left only food and paper programmes in their wake, and he easily slipped backstage in search of the white feline.</p>
<p>"Oi! No unauthorised cats allowed – oh, Your Highness!" The large black-and-white bouncer cat stooped into a hasty bow. "Sorry, Your Highness. I didn't realise it was you." The bouncer glanced over the bouquet of gerbera daisies that dominated most of Lune's form. "Are you… looking for someone?"</p>
<p>Just in time, Lune recalled the ruse he had cooked up. "Ah, yes. I wish to meet the ex-human who performed as Grizabella in the last show."</p>
<p>"Oh." The bouncer did not look scandalised by this decision, but neither did he look particularly thrilled. "I s'pose I'd better show you the way then."</p>
<p>"There's really no need…"</p>
<p>The bouncer waved a paw loosely in a '<em>follow me/it's no bother'</em> kind of motion, and started down into the depths of the theatre. "Can't be just letting the crown prince wonder around without any escort. It's more than my job's worth."</p>
<p>"I suppose not," Lune admitted. He couldn't confess the real reason he had arrived – certainly not laden down with the bouquet – and as he was led into the theatre's underbelly, he began to appreciate his guide. For what was referred to as 'backstage' could just as easily been called 'understage' for the way it wound in tunnels beneath ground. Lune was not scared of the dark, but between the never-ending sunlight of the Cat Kingdom and the grand well-lit home of the palace, he rarely experienced this level of dingy darkness. Naturally, he expected it to be dark. Just not this dark. Or tinged with a level of cave-like dampness. He wrinkled his nose, flicking his whiskers when the bouncer wasn't looking, and carefully breathed through his mouth.</p>
<p>"This'll be it," the bouncer announced, finally coming to a door that seemed notably understated for a leading role. "I'll, uh, wait out here."</p>
<p>Lune lingered then, the adrenaline from his hastily-founded plan giving way just enough for him to take note of his guide's strange demeanour. "I do not wish to pry, but are you… <em>scared</em> of this human?"</p>
<p>"No," the bouncer mumbled. "Just don't like the room." The cat looked flustered at the admission, seemingly forgetting that he was addressing royalty. "They say it's haunted."</p>
<p>Lune smiled then. "Just this room?"</p>
<p>"I hear… voices, sometimes," the bouncer said.</p>
<p>"The human, I imagine."</p>
<p>"Nah. I know what she sounds like. Sometimes I hear another voice, a male's voice. The human, she… she talks to it."</p>
<p>"An ex-human who understudies as a prima donna <em>and</em> talks to ghosts," Lune said. "Well, I'll certainly have to offer her my congratulation in that case." He started for the door, and then hesitated. "You can return to your post, if you so wish."</p>
<p>"I'll stick around out here, sire, if it's all the same. Make sure you get back to the exit okay."</p>
<p>'<em>Make sure I don't get eaten by ghosts, more like it,</em>' Lune thought, but he had enough experience keeping a civil tongue around his father's ministers to make curbing that particular thought easy. He nodded, offered his thanks, and knocked at the door. It was only as he called out that he realised two things.</p>
<p>The first was that he really wasn't going to have a chance to find Yuki with the bouncer-turned-bodyguard dogging his every step.</p>
<p>And the second – and admittedly far more embarrassing – fact was that he had no knowledge of the human's name. This thought slammed into him with the full force of its ill-mannered nature when she called back for him to enter and he found himself standing inside the dressing room of the temporary prima donna.</p>
<p>It was a dingier room than he had been expecting, even accounting for the modest door. It was large enough, true, but in the manner of a dressing room that had once been built to accommodate a whole chorus before falling into disrepair. The occupant had done her best to lighten it though, having cleaned the mirrors that reflected sunlight from the surface and scrubbed down the dressing ledges that still bore the brunt of too many years' neglect. It certainly was not a room fit for an up-and-coming prima donna.</p>
<p>And then there was the prima donna herself.</p>
<p>From the comfort of the audience, her features had been easy to identify as feline, but from this proximity her human heritage lingered in odd places. Her jawline had just a little too much edge to it, her posture just a little <em>off</em>, her eyes… just not quite right. It was not, in any quantifiable way, a <em>bad</em> collection of features, but there was something undeniably uncanny about it. But her eyes – strange and all – were kind and they crinkled in gentle confusion at his arrival. "Yes? Can I help you?"</p>
<p>He remembered the flowers he held, and quickly bowed as he presented them. "These are for you, Miss…?"</p>
<p>He had hoped the open question would prompt her to fill in the gap, but she only quirked an eyebrow and echoed, "Miss…?"</p>
<p>"Alas, from hearing your wonderful voice on stage, I confess I have fair forgotten your name," he lied, hoping the flattery would smooth away any insult he might have wrought.</p>
<p>She didn't look insulted though – but, then again, neither did she look particularly convinced either. She took the flowers and there was an amused twitch at her lips. "You brought flowers for a lady you didn't even know the name of?"</p>
<p>"…Yes."</p>
<p>"Then your ladies skills need some work, Mr…?"</p>
<p>"Prince," he supplied, automatically. "It's Prince Lune."</p>
<p>Her eyes widened and she fumbled for the bouquet she nearly dropped. "I… You're the… a… oh, dammit." She gathered herself into a hasty bow that was all knees and elbows in a stubbornly human way. "I am so sorry, Your Highness, I didn't know. The other cats said there was royalty visiting today, but I never imagined…"</p>
<p>"I should have introduced myself earlier, Miss…?"</p>
<p>"Haru," she said quickly. "It's just Haru."</p>
<p>"Miss Haru. It's a pleasure to meet you." He waited a heartbeat. "You don't need to keep bowing, you know."</p>
<p>"I know. I'm just trying to avoid hyperventilating." She gave a shaky breath and straightened, her face red from either the embarrassment or the elongated bow. "If I… If you don't mind me asking, what is a prince doing coming to my dressing room with flowers?"</p>
<p>"Officially, I'm coming to congratulate you on your recent success."</p>
<p>"Does the prince visit all new humans in the Cat Kingdom?"</p>
<p>"No," Lune admitted, "but rarely do humans make such a splash in society." He gave her an appraising look, recalling what he could about the transformation magic of his kingdom. "How long have you been here?"</p>
<p>"I… I'm not sure. There's not the same kind of days that I'm used to but…" and she frowned, doing calculations in her mind, "I think it's been a couple of months?"</p>
<p>He blinked. "And you still retain some of your humanity?"</p>
<p>She passed a conscious paw over her whiskers that were just a hair's length too short. "I… I mean, I <em>guess</em>? I don't know how long it takes for a human to become a full cat, but…" She gave an uneasy laugh. "I'm getting there."</p>
<p>There were some things that were universally known in the Cat Kingdom. Everyone knew that there was a transformation magic woven into the world, transforming all humans who ventured there into cats, and that any human who stayed beyond their first sunrise would be not be able to reclaim their original form. Once the first sunrise passed, the human would continue to shift into a pure feline form until they were indistinguishable from any other cat.</p>
<p>It had never occurred to Lune that any such process might take <em>months</em>.</p>
<p>Haru glanced at him, and then at the full bouquet that was brightening up her lonely little corner. "You know," she said eventually, snapping Lune out of his thoughts, "I know of a chorus cat who just loves gerbera daisies."</p>
<p>"She still does?" Lune asked. He caught himself, too late, and quickly added, "You do?"</p>
<p>"Uh-huh." She looked thoughtfully at the blooms, with the air of someone who was very rapidly piecing a puzzle together. When she caught Lune's gaze again, there was something gently sad in her eyes. "I hope you don't think this too forward of me, but you didn't come here to give me flowers, did you?"</p>
<p>Lune felt the tips of his ears heat up and he had to resist the kitten urge to tug at them. "I… Well…"</p>
<p>"I'm a grown woman – cat," she amended a second too late. "I can handle the truth, Your Highness."</p>
<p>"You do sing wonderfully, Miss Haru–"</p>
<p>"But…?"</p>
<p>Shamefaced, Lune could only watch the sandy stone floor beneath his feet. "But I had initially intended to pass the flowers onto a cat by the name of Yuki."</p>
<p>"Then why–"</p>
<p>"I am a prince, Miss Haru. Princes do not go presenting flowers to chorus cats, not without arousing unnecessary speculation."</p>
<p>When he met her gaze, the sorrow was gone or, at least, it had relocated. "Do you know Yuki?" she asked.</p>
<p>"I… We were friends, once. In our younger days." He hoped she could not tell the way his ears burned. "I had hoped to claim interest in meeting you, and then go on to find her once I had passed any curious eyes, but… well, I doubt any such chance will reveal itself now."</p>
<p>"I wouldn't be so sure of that." She grinned, and the offer of helping seemed to lighten her gaze. "Yuki has been a very good friend to me these past months. I'm sure I could pass these onto her and let her know who sent them."</p>
<p>"That would be… Thank you, Miss Haru."</p>
<p>"Please, just Haru."</p>
<p>He nodded. "Thank you, Haru." He paused before he left, lingering in the doorway. "Just out of curiosity, Haru, how <em>does</em> a human work her way up into the role of prima donna?"</p>
<p>"Prima donna <em>understudy</em>," she corrected.</p>
<p>"A temporary difference, if your performance today was anything to go by," he said, and there was no baseless flattery in his words. From what he'd heard, there was high praise regarding the unexpected stand-in. "And, if you don't mind my persistence, my question still stands."</p>
<p>She gave a smile and Lune was almost sure her eyes flickered to the mirror opposite her. "I've had help."</p>
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